


Somebody to Love Me

by MsThunderFrost



Series: Achilles, the Relationship Counselor [5]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Fingering, Angst, Break Up, Exhibitionism, Insecure Theseus, M/M, Men Crying, Office Sex, Poseidon's A+ Parenting, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sex Toys, Size King Theseus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: Theseus has never given much thought to the amount of lumbar support that his office chair provided.It’s an odd thing to think about at two o’clock in the morning, when he’s definitely not sober—but still several drinks away from being properly drunk—mulling over the latest in the seemingly never-ending list of humiliations that were his love life. He understood that this… thing that he’d gone on with Patroclus couldn’t be considered an actual date, but could you really blame him for getting a bit caught up in the moment? For wanting to have someone like Patroclus look at him the way that Patroclus looked at his actual husband, just for a little while?--Set in the same 'verse as Achilles, the Relationship Counselor. The aftermath of Chapter 15, from Theseus' POV.
Relationships: Asterius | The Minotaur/Theseus (Hades Video Game), Patroclus/Theseus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Achilles, the Relationship Counselor [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074767
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Somebody to Love Me

Theseus has never given much thought to the amount of lumbar support that his office chair provided.

It’s an odd thing to think about at two o’clock in the morning, when he’s definitely _not_ sober—but still several drinks away from being properly drunk—mulling over the latest in the seemingly never-ending list of humiliations that were his love life. He understood that this… _thing_ that he’d gone on with Patroclus couldn’t be considered an _actual_ date, but could you really blame him for getting a bit _caught up_ in the moment? For wanting to have someone like Patroclus look at _him_ the way that Patroclus looked at his _actual_ husband, just for a little while?

Theseus has been in love before—he knows what it feels like. He’s not in love with Patroclus, not even close. But he likes to have Patroclus’ eyes on him (negative attention is better than no attention, right?—he was always that kid that went around poking the other little boys with his pencils). All of his own relationships inevitably fail. Okay, perhaps _fail_ isn’t the best word for it, when two of the relationships had been cut short before they’d even had a chance to really begin. Though, to be fair, that disaster with Ariadne had been all him.

He doesn’t like to make excuses for his failures… but it’s not like he’d had any strong role models upon which to base his relationships, either. His father had readily admitted that he’d been an accident (just like his brothers Atlas, Orion, and Triton had all been accidents—the only one that’d been planned had been their sister, Despoina, born of their father’s—admittedly very _brief_ —attempt at marriage). Of Poseidon’s five children, Theseus was the only one that he’d never actually cared about. He’d left him to be raised by a mother who’d spent the bulk of his formative years attempting to convince her husband that Theseus was his (it was never going to be a winning argument—neither his mother nor his step-father had blue eyes (and all of Poseidon’s other children had green)).

Theseus had met Poseidon at his high school graduation, when the bastard had come to see one of his seventeen thousand nieces and nephews receive their high school diploma. He hadn’t realized that Theseus was graduating too… or that Theseus even went to that particular school. He’d offered to make up for years of abandonment with a check for $25k, all the while wrestling a pint-sized Triton on a frazzled-looking toddler leash. Theseus had stared at that check for _hours_ , unable to understand what made him so different—what made him the mistake.

He’s the director of the largest hospital on this side of the state. He’d put himself through six years of schooling, and had even obtained his credentials to work in other healthcare fields, should the hospital director gig not work out. He’d graduated without a _cent_ in student loan debt, thanks to the _hours_ of hard-work he’d put in…

And what was Triton doing with his life? Hadn’t he decided to become professional shark bait or something?

On a whim, he decides to look up his youngest brother’s YouTube page. It’s where he posts videos of himself surfing, which he and Atlas record together when Atlas isn’t otherwise occupied with bodybuilding competitions. Triton has just begun to flex his lean muscles for the camera when the door to Theseus’ office swings open—

“Theseus,” he recognizes that voice. Pausing the video, he looks up to offer his coworker, Asterius, a lazy smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to still be here.” Asterius’ dark eyes flicker to the near-empty bottle of tequila on Theseus’ desk.

“Yes, well… I just had some paperwork that I needed to catch up on. There’s no time like the present, right?” It’s not like there’s anyone waiting for him at home, anyhow. His former mother-in-law has custody over his twin four-year-old boys, and his eldest won’t talk to him anymore after that whole messy business with Phaedra.

Asterius frowns, “I thought you were supposed to be out on your date with Patroclus.” Theseus is uncertain as to whether he hears genuine jealousy in his tone, or if it’s the booze making him hear what he wants to hear.

“It wasn’t a date.” He reminds him, as if that actually meant _anything at all_. He downs another shot of tequila.

His companion takes another step into his office, sliding the door closed behind him. “So… he didn’t put out, then.” It’s not a question. Theseus flinches a little, placing his shot glass down on the desk just a little too hard. Despite the significant chunk of change he’d sunken into their not-date, he’d never _assumed_ that Patroclus was going to put out.

Theseus wasn’t blind. He’d been watching Patroclus from the moment he walked in the doors to the restaurant, studying his body language. He could tell the difference between someone who was interested and someone who had no intention of putting out at all—and he wasn’t about to force himself on someone that was unwilling. Still, it’d been… _nice_ that Patroclus had been willing to finally take him up on his offer, even if he’d run off in the middle of their not-date and had left Theseus to deal with the staggering bill and their overly-nosy waiter.

“You want a drink?” He asks. He pulls another shot glass out of the bottom drawer of his desk, sliding it across the table. “I’m feeling generous—so I’ll share with you, just this time.”

“Theseus.” Asterius’ eyes flicker from the empty shot glass to Theseus’ tired face, “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright, old friend.” Theseus flashes him a tired smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He can feel tears burning in the corners of his eyes… maybe he ought to stop drinking, at least for a little while. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been rejected. I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

Asterius raises a brow, “That almost empty bottle of tequila says differently.” He says. Instead of taking the proffered glass, he moves to grab the bottle from Theseus’ now-shaking hand.

“What’re you doing—”

“You’ve had enough to drink, Theseus. At this rate, you’re not going to be able to make it to work tomorrow. Err… later today.” It’s pretty clear at this point that Theseus intends to spend the night in his office, using his unfinished paperwork as a pillow.

Maybe he’d drool all over it and make it impossible to turn in…

He and Asterius are together… kind of. If they were to actually come out and put a label on whatever it is they have between them, one of them would have to leave the hospital. Knowing Asterius, he would likely insist that _he_ leave… and Theseus didn’t want to deal with the guilt of Asterius leaving his job over a relationship he wasn’t even sure would actually work out. Because, let’s be real—none of his relationships have worked out thus far. He’s literally sitting in his office, drinking his sorrows, because a man that he wasn’t even interested in had skipped out on their not-date. Okay, so maybe he’s not alright. But he doesn’t need Asterius to worry about him. He just needs to finish this bottle of tequila and wonder what his life might’ve been like if his father had actually given two shits about him—

“Asterius? Can I ask you something?” Asterius cocks his head to the side. “Why are you still with me, after all of the bullshit that I put you through?” He’s not sure that he actually wants an answer… but he doesn’t think that he can feel worse than he does right now.

“Because I love you.” Asterius’ answer is so straight-forward, it hurts in an entirely different way. It’s not like he’d been expecting a different answer, but still… It stings.

Because he loves Asterius, too. But every time he goes to tell Asterius as much, the words get caught in his throat.

Because Ariadne had walked out on him on the night of their third anniversary (not that he’d actually remembered that it was their anniversary—he’d set a reminder in his phone after he’d forgotten their second anniversary, but he’d had his phone turned off during a board meeting that’d lasted the majority of the day (they’d been voting to remove a tenured doctor—ironically, Patroclus’ predecessor)). She’d left the meal that she’d made for them on the table, the oven still on to keep the ham she’d made warm (or to try and burn the house down—given how brutally she’d gone after him in the divorce proceedings, it was entirely possible that she’d been trying to kill him)… and had never looked back. And that… well, that _still_ hurt.

And Hippolyta and Phaedra… he… doesn’t like to talk about that. The _point_ is that he’s been in love before, and it’s never worked out. And he cares about Asterius, he does. That’s why he can’t risk letting things become _too_ serious between them. Because not everyone is destined to have a happily ever after, like Patroclus and Achilles. And not everyone is content to be alone, like his father. Some people just… exist in the awkward in-between, wanting something more but unable to actually achieve it.

“Theseus…” Asterius walks around to the other side of Theseus’ desk, spinning him around so that they’re face-to-face. “It’s okay if you can’t say it back. I know how you feel about me.”

“Asterius…” He thinks that he might’ve started crying at some point. If Asterius notices, he thankfully doesn’t comment. Instead, his cups Theseus’ chin in one of his massive hands… his palms are so amazingly soft, Theseus is about to start purring like a cat.

“…How drunk are you, Theseus?” He wants to say that he’s not drunk at all. Except… Asterius can see the half-empty bottle of tequila with his own eyes.

Theseus licks his lips, “…Sober enough.”

Asterius’ lips are soft on his. The chair starts to creep backward… Theseus plants his feet firmly on the ground, leaning forward ever so slightly. A moment passes, and then, Asterius drags his tongue over Theseus’ bottom lip. Slowly, he works his tongue into Theseus’ mouth, tasting the tequila lingering on his skin…

His hand slides up to tangle in Theseus’ hair, tilting his head back just so… A second later, he breaks the kiss to nip a trail down the length of Theseus’ jaw, the blond’s stubble tickling his sensitive lips. His nails scrape along Theseus’ scalp, the slight pain causing Theseus’ lust-hazed eyes to flutter. Gods, are they really about to… Perhaps this day wasn’t a complete disaster after all. He fumbles around until he can grab his keyring from his front pocket, pressing the smallest silver key into Asterius’ free hand.

He knew that there was a reason he’d kept that bottle of lube in with all the alcohol—

And the condoms. Not that he and Asterius used them, anymore.

Asterius leaves a trail of reddish-purple marks along the length of Theseus’ jaw and down his neck, before drawing back to retrieve the bottle of lube and… oh gods, he’d forgotten that that was in there. He couldn’t remember the last time that they’d used any of his Bad Dragon toys (Asterius had gone on a bit of a shopping spree once he’d realized that Theseus had a bit of a… _size kink_. His favorite toy, Tyson, had actually been the first one that Asterius had bought. But there were a number of others—Flint, Xar, and Tako, to drop a few notable names—that were definitely close seconds). He didn’t even remember how Tyson had ended up in his desk drawer. Probably from the last time that Asterius had plugged him up before work…

“I think that you need to _relax_ , Theseus.” Asterius purrs. He sets the bottle of lube and the toy down on Theseus’ desk, right next to the paperwork that he had no intention of finishing. Then, he takes Theseus by the hand and leads him—

“Really? Against the window?” The window is cold against his chest, causing his nipples to ache as they strain against his thin white dress shirt. But he can hardly bring himself to care when Asterius is unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down over his hips.

“Are you worried that someone might see?” Asterius asks. He drags his fingers over Theseus’ cock, which is already at half-mast. “I have to say… you don’t _seem_ too worried.”

“Hgn…” Theseus presses his forehead up against the glass, “It’s not like there’s anyone around to see at this hour, anyway.” Still… his cock twitches at the thought of getting caught.

…Maybe, one day, he could convince Asterius to do something a bit more _daring_ with him.

Asterius grabs the lube and drizzles it over his fingers, before sliding a finger in-between Theseus’ cheeks. Theseus is always a little loose (a byproduct of some of the larger toys that they liked to use), but Asterius always takes care to ensure that he’s properly prepped… even if it’s a bit of overkill. Still… his hands twitch, desperate for something to grab onto as Asterius works his finger around Theseus’ little furl. And then… it slides in ever so slowly, to the first knuckle, then the second, and—

_“Oh_ …” the pad of Asterius’ finger teases his prostate, rolling that sensitive little nub beneath his finger. His thighs start to quake—Asterius steps a little closer, using his hips to pin Theseus to the glass.

“Are you going to be alright, my love?” Those two words, ‘my love’, send a shiver down Theseus’ spine. He doesn’t deserve to have Asterius call him that, but he knows that Asterius won’t hear any differently. Asterius leans forward, braids spilling over his shoulder as he nears Theseus’ ear, “Do you think you can handle another?”

“Y-Yes… I c-can take more, _please_ …”

Asterius does not disappoint. With a little bit more of the too-cold lube, he works a second, and then a third finger inside of Theseus. Excess lube drips from his skin to stain the seat of his pants (but he’d already spilled wine on the pants at dinner, and had deemed them well beyond saving). Asterius’ mouth is hot on his already flushed skin, planting kisses along the length of his neck… he reaches back, digging his fingers into the swell of Asterius’ forearm, begging incoherently for him to kiss and suck and _fuck_ him _harder_.

Drool trickles from the corner of his mouth as he arches his back, pushing his hips back against Asterius’ hand. His lube-slicked fingers squelch loudly in the otherwise quiet office, the distinctly sexual sound accentuated by Theseus’ heavy breaths as his cock continues to fill.

Gods, if he’d known that he could have had _this_ , he never would’ve gone on that disaster of a not-date.

Just thinking about that makes his chest tighten…

“You’re thinking too much.” Asterius murmurs, tilting his head to nibble at the shell of Theseus’ ear. “Clearly, I’m not doing something right.” He withdraws his hand, leaving Theseus with an aching need to be _filled_.

“Asterius…?” Theseus reaches up to wipe away the tears that’re still streaking down his cheeks. Asterius steps away to collect their toy from the table. He swallows hard, “I… I love you.”

“You… _what_?” Asterius stares at him, dumbstruck, the toy slipping from in-between his fingers.

“I love you.” Theseus repeats. It feels like a tremendous weight has been lifted off of his chest, even if the idea of saying those words again absolutely terrifies him. Still, that doesn’t stop him from adding, “And I… I think that you should go now.”

Asterius continues to stare at him blankly, “I don’t understand—”

“We can’t keep…” Theseus scrubs at his traitorous eyes, trying to will himself to stop crying. “We can’t keep doing this, Asterius. You deserve to be with someone who can give you the world, who can give you a proper relationship… And I… I think it would be best for you to leave, now.”

For a moment, he thinks that Asterius is going to fight him. And he knows that he’ll cave like a wet paper bag the moment that Asterius starts to push back against him… Thankfully, that moment never comes. “…If that’s what you want.” He draws himself up to his full height, adjusting his clothes. “Take care of yourself, Theseus.”

It’s not what he wants.

To be fair, Theseus doesn’t actually _know_ what he wants.

He pulls up his pants, his cock protesting as it’s shoved back behind a zipper. It’s uncomfortable, but easy enough to ignore. Asterius is more of an adult than Theseus ever was, gathering his things and leaving without a word. Theseus stares at the door, wishing that he had slammed it closed behind him… that he’d fought harder against Theseus when Theseus had insisted that he leave. There was nothing he could’ve said that would’ve convinced Theseus that he wasn’t doing the right thing, but…

Asterius had said that he loved him, and Theseus desperately wanted to believe him.

Plopping back down on his office chair, Theseus unlocks his computer and pulls Triton’s YouTube video back up. His little brother is as dumb as ever, flexing heavily tattooed muscles (they’re not _mermaids_ , they’re _nereids_ —it’s an important distinction that Theseus did not care about _at all_ ). How had a video, where Triton literally spends fifteen minutes rambling about _nothing_ , gotten _millions_ of views on YouTube? How was Triton their father’s pride and joy, and he wouldn’t even give Theseus the time of day?

…He’s going to write a formal apology letter to Patroclus. And then he’s going to resign as acting director of the hospital. Maybe… Maybe it was time to move on.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter [@MsThunderFrost](https://twitter.com/MsThunderFrost)


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